Kryptonite
by Jemppy
Summary: So here I am playing hero; but like I said, I never saw myself as the hero. (Jimmy and Marco friendship)


**AN:** Once again, here I am with another fic that isn't _The Reason. _But this was kind one that was just dying to get out. It was finally given motivation by KaitlinBell's livejournal and an entry that she just wrote.

As you can tell, Marco is my favorite character, but I love exploring other character's thoughts and actions on cannon events that happen to my favorite characters.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own DTNG and this wasn't based off of that 3 Doors Down (_was that their name?)_ song.

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**Kryptonite**

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I never saw myself as Superman; I was never the one for helping the little people in the hallways of the school. Don't get me wrong, I always was one to read X-Men and Spiderman comics.

I always collected action figures too. And when the comic heroes made it to the big screen, I was always there standing in line with a ticket in my hand. There was something about how brave those guys could be, even if they were wearing skintight spandex, not to mention they always got the hot chick at the end of the movie.

You may call me spoiled, you may call me a bastard; I can take it. Plenty of people had spent their lives telling me exactly what I am doing wrong. Of course there weren't too many people there telling me exactly what I was doing right. It isn't like I set out to screw people over; it just seems to work out that way.

So I get everything I want. Big deal. Well see there is something wrong with that belief. Everyone thinks that, but it is incorrect. Tell me that I get everything I want when I am spending another night by myself with nothing but the glow of the TV screen as my company. The parents on the late night sitcoms are closer and more loving than the real set that I happened to be related to.

Still though, reading those comics always led me to believe that you had to have absentee parents if you were ever going to be a superhero. So as a kid that comforted me for a while.

But like I said, I never saw myself as a hero.

So when I outgrew the comic books, I outgrew my rose glasses and no longer attributed my parent's absence as a secret pain that would help explain why I'd don a colorful pair of tights and a cape each night. I saw them for what they really were. Nothing but a pair of successful working adults who made big paychecks and sometimes, during the workday, forgot they had a son.

You could say that during grade ten I grew up just slightly and saw the world for what it really was. My supposed best friend was jealous enough to steal from me, my ex-girlfriend saw me as an unchanging, borderline abusive boyfriend who could accept her for what she was; I just began to see some of the darker aspects of life.

But I really saw it the night that Paige's brother Dylan invited the gang to one of his Toronto Raiders games and I was waiting for Marco to arrive. He had opted to meet us at the game so not to spend the evening facing Spin's cold front. He had called my cell to let me know that he had gotten off at the wrong stop and that he was going to be there soon.

But the game had started and no Marco.

I blew off Spin to try and call Marco, just to see where he was. I wasn't worried. Not yet at least.

_"Help! Guys! I'm in the park-"_

Dial tone. Sirens.

I wish I could talk to my parents more. Then I could just explain how that cut-off phone call brought reoccurring nightmares in which I never make to the park in time, or in some I make it there while the creeps are still hurting him and I can't do a damn thing.

Funny, getting there when I did was probably the best time I could have. The police had been there, already searching the place and one had cleaned up the scrapes and cuts that Marco had sustained. I really didn't know what to do. I am the worst person to comfort someone. I didn't know how.

So I told him what I always wanted to hear.

_"I'm here, I'm not going anywhere."_

That seemed to work. The next day, Marco tried to pass it off as a mugging but everyone knew that it really had been a hate crime.

Hate crime. That sounded so strange. That just didn't happen here. But it did and it happened to one of my friends.

That very day Spin called me a hero. Of course it was in his ignorant, mocking way that he has, but it was the first time someone had called me that.

Marco pulled me aside after English that day to tell me how thankful he was that I had been there for him. Hero came up again, but this time there had been sincerity.

After that day I took a silent role as protector to Marco. Spin would make some comment and I'd jump into that role. It would bother me that some people just could handle something as trivial as sexuality.

So here I am playing hero.

There was a time when I had just left Hazel for the Spirit squad practice and was walking down the empty hallway to leave when I came across it.

There was Marco. He had been getting into his locker when some Grade 11s were walking by and they paused to ask him something.

"So are you, like gay?" one of the girls took in the small rainbow thread that was tied around his wrist.

Marco, already two weeks into a brand –new relationship with Dylan, had just nodded. He had gotten to the point of not lying anymore, just not advertising it.

From where I was standing, I could see the lip turned up in disgust. "That is so wrong. You should just, like die now." That was it and then they were off walking down the hall, leaving Marco with arm still extended into his locker.

They left him with the kind of hurt that I couldn't chase away like I did that night.

It sucks, but in a way I thought I was becoming a superhero after that night, but those two girls made me realize that I couldn't protect him from every barb that is going to be thrown at him.

I felt terrible when Marco looked in my direction and saw that I had heard everything. But he smiled. "Don't worry Jim, I hear things like that all the time."

"Doesn't make them right."

He closed his locker and nodded. "I know. But I know I got people like you to back me up whenever it gets me down." With that he waved and left me there.

Those hateful words have always been my kryptonite. I can't do a damned thing about them. I can't do a damned thing about the unreasonable fear that springs up whenever my cell rings at night. I can't do a damned thing to change the world.

But I can be there.

So very unlike my parents.

So you can call me whatever you want. I never set out to be Batman or Superman, but I think I understand them a little more than when I used to read their cartoon adventures.

Grade 11 is about to start again soon, and I've started to reread all my comic books again.

I can always be there, but I've never said that I'm a hero.


End file.
